Grubbs Grady VS Bec Macconn
by justanotherFAYZ
Summary: If Grubbs and Bec got in a fight- who would win? And most importantly, why are they fighting anyway?


**!Attention! All rights to the book, characters and additional references are reserved to the rightful owner. This is a fan-fic, so please don't sue me. All you'll get is a sock full of cheese. Anyway, enjoy- and please comment so i can write more! This story is focusing on Bec, Grubbs and Beranabus. It is set during the events of dark calling, so don't read it until you've read that, or it'll be a bit confusing. Written in third person. Thank you! –Totaltinalover. XOX.**

**Grubbs Grady VS Bec Mac-conn.**

Grubbs could recall life before the demonata. Before the tragic death of his parents and Gret. Before he turned into a savage beast, on the inside and out.

It's just he didn't think of it much, that's all.

His mind fleeted to a dusty old memory of watching the wrestling on Gret's TV. The image was blurred and vague, with the nostalgic blend of uncertainty and fondness. But the general concept was still there. There was a wrestler, standing in a ring, about to beat the guts out of someone- or have the guts beaten out of him.

The Grubbs from then would never of imagined he'd be in the same position with a 1600 year old priestess/his great, great, great, great, great (A handful more great's) aunt.

Nope, didn't see that one coming.

The arena? A barren stretch of land in the demonata's universe.

The use of force? Magic.

Referee? None. The disciples had more troubling issues, and didn't even know they were there.

The reason for the fight? Well, That was a little more complicated.

"You can't do this Grubbs. Please, see sense. Snap out of this- monster you've become and think of your actions." Demanded the red head, who also turned out to be quite _level-headed _as well.

Grubbs attempted a humane sounding laugh. It came out more as a _growl. _"Is that what you begged your precious Beranabus too?"

The words cut Bec like knifes but showed no bruises. "Hah, you compare yourself to Bran? That's rich. Bran was a legendary fighter, a credit to our universe, a merit to humanity...You really think you can just walk in his unfitting shoes like he's, like he's-"

"Dead?" Snorted Grubbs, living up to his wolfish appearances.

Bec grimaced. "I told you, his souls in the shadow. We could still save him, free him, get the information out of him...and bring him back. If Juni can be brought back, then I'm sure there's a way he can too."

"What's the point?" Shrugged Grubbs as if his descendent was suggesting rescuing the soul of a fly. "How will that benefit us?"

"He's the biggest threat to Lord loss that's ever lived, Grubbs. He's vital."

"_To you perhaps. _Honestly, i think you just don't like the thought of his soul being stuck in there for eternity." He sneered, recalling Bec's long endurance of pain in the cave she was trapped in.

"I am an honest person. I admit that yes, i don't like the thought of my best friend suffering. But i can assure you, my reasons for his rescue are purely professional."

"Yeah right." Came the gruff reply.

Suddenly Bec saw that reason wasn't the way to get through someone like him. Not anymore. Perhaps a different, colder tactic would do what was needed to convince him and get her friend (Not referring to her descendent) back. "If i didn't know any better, I'd of thought you were just jealous."

A bitter scoff. "What?"

"Just because your family- and Bill-E's dead." She didn't feel like mentioning the fact that Bill-E could also be saved, but there was a time and place for everything. "Just because you can't get them back. I'm sure you'd jump at the chance to save the ones you love, even now."

A soft snarl played on his lips. "What was that, _little one_?" He challenged with both enraged intimidation and humorous mockery.

"You heard me."

Grubbs lunged.

On all four hands- or paws- or whatever they were now, he knocked his relative off her tiny feet.

He restrained her from getting up with his paw, teeth flashing and claws scraping.

"Don't challenge me little Bec. I'm a freaking werewolf. You can't win against me."

It took a while for his ancestor to respond. She was dismayed by his reaction, even though she had thought she had prepared herself.

When she did though, she hit back harder. "For god's sake Grubbs. I might not have the brute force you have, but you really think you can beat me? You're barely 16. I'm 1600."

She freed her hand from Grubb's grasp, blue light flooding from it. Grubbs howled, the light burning his furry-face.

He batted a paw in front of his eyes whilst momentarily forgetting that he was the commander now, and this was not really leader behaviour.

Bec saw this brief relapse as a chance to make her escape. She stood on her own two feet, pain of injury being drowned out by determination.

Grubbs leaped into the air for the second time, intent on swatting the pesky ginger fly down.

But Bec had summoned a aqua-blue force field which was also- unfortunately for Grubbs- electric.

Bec wasn't sure she liked seeing someone roll on the floor yapping desperately due to her _force-fields, _but she didn't let that on, of course. Her face stayed hard as rock, or the newly formed walls around her opponent's heart.

Grubbs made attempted to scar her leg, but Bec created a similar working magic whip, which kept him down, relievingly. He looked like he could rip her head off in one go if provoked. And well, she was _this close _to provoking him.

As the fight wore on, Bec started to get less creative and forceful with her attacks/defences.

_That stupid elf is getting way too comfortable up there... _Noticed Grubbs.

Grubbs lay on the ground panting heavily, face covered with his limbs, tail between legs.

"I'm sorry that had to happen Grubbs, but you were going to kill me." Apologised Bec in between gasps. "Now hopefully, we can find a-"

Grubbs sprung.

Bec gasped, and tried to put up another line of defence, but she was a second too late.

Grubbs bit her like he would dead meat, leaving red tattoos all over her body...A Grubbs Grady style mark of territory.

Then, he bent her fingers backward one by one.

"Grubbs, let me go!" She cried out, wincing uncontrollably, eyes squinted as if this was all just a bad dream.

Grubbs didn't persist. He didn't like to admit it to himself, but he kind of...Enjoyed it.

Bec shouted out different calls, but they all seemed just as worthless and insignificant as the last. He'd make her sorry.

Until one particular phrase caught his eye:  
>"You've become Beranabus!"<p>

The torment stopped for a minute as Grubbs tried to decipher whether that was a suck-up compliment for him to spare her, or an _insult._

He decided the latter.

"You have become just like him. You used to be such a good person, childish, but you were good. Bran was...Wonderful. But he got too caught up him all. And he changed. I worried for him, i believed him. I never gave up on him. That's why i wanted to save him, I had hope for him to be him again. I still don't think anyone could ever match up to him- but you're acting like him. Don't you see the irony? You hated Bran!"

Grubbs paused, and released her from his grip.

He ran away from Bec, far, far away, until she was out of sight.

Then he looked up to the demonic sky- there were 7 moons here- and howled at each and every one of them.


End file.
